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<title>You felt shelter somewhere in me, I find great comfort in you by makesometime</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758191">You felt shelter somewhere in me, I find great comfort in you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime'>makesometime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Canon Asexual Character, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Life-Affirming Sex, M/M, Reunion Sex, Sex-Favorable Zolf Smith, post episode 177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:40:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,090</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The feeling stays with him the entire day, through conversations with the Ursans and watching everyone greet their fallen friends with tears and relief. </p><p>He knows what it is. It’s familiar like an old friend but he’s so unfamiliar with its <em>insistent</em> tug that he can’t seem to ignore it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You felt shelter somewhere in me, I find great comfort in you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/jomipay/gifts">blackmoonalcolyte (jomipay)</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Jo &lt;3</p><p>Title from Riches and Wonders by the Mountain Goats.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The feeling stays with him the entire day, through conversations with the Ursans and watching everyone greet their fallen friends with tears and relief. It sits heavy in his stomach, as he watches how freely Wilde hugs everyone, arms wrapped around them tight and grateful, with tear-filled eyes that sparkle with every disbelieving laugh.</p><p>He knows what it is. It’s familiar like an old friend but he’s so unfamiliar with its <em>insistent</em> tug that he can’t seem to ignore it.</p><p>Wilde makes it worse. Because of course he does. Every time they’re even remotely close to one another Wilde makes sure he’s touching Zolf. A hand on his shoulder. A leg against his when they sit and listen to what Sohra and her people have to say.</p><p>By the end of the day, he knows he should be tired. He’s not.</p><p>When Sohra offers them rooms to stay in and Wilde goes to follow, Zolf catches up the man’s hand instead, letting out a faint gasp at the shiver that races up his forearm.</p><p>“With me.” He mutters, not missing the way Wilde’s eyes go all wide.</p><p>No one comments on the fact that they’re taking a room together, but they get a few glances that he knows he’ll have to deal with at some point. No matter.</p><p>The room is small, positively cozy. A human-sized bed sits in the middle and they dump their things to the side without speaking. Wilde goes easily when Zolf leads him over to the bed and exhales heavily when Zolf urges him to sit, then crawls over his lap and takes his face in shaking hands.</p><p>“Oh.” He says, quiet, a little dumbfounded.</p><p>They’re not much for speaking after that.</p><p>He kisses Oscar like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to do it, fueled by the weighty heat that’s plagued him all day. Oscar, in turn, clutches him close and whimpers all lovely into his mouth, tongue swiping and teeth nipping and every panted breath like a gift that Zolf doesn’t know how to repay.</p><p>He grinds his weight down against Oscar’s lap and smiles at the answering press of the man’s cock, hard already and drawing a delightful whine, a choked off laugh as Oscar slides hands down his back and over his arse to pull him even closer.</p><p>Zolf huffs into the kiss and starts at Oscar’s clothing, shoving and anxious and fumbling with too-small buttons and the frayed remains of his shirt. It doesn’t matter <em>how</em> the man gets naked, only that he <em>does.</em> If at points he’s battling with Oscar’s hands trying to do the same, it only makes him laugh out a giddy chuckle and feel the same vibrate through the man.</p><p>Oscar shouts when Zolf gets a hand around his cock, too cold still from the chilled air, his hips bucking out an uneven rhythm, head tipped back into the pillows. He’s <em>loud</em> and Zolf spares a thought for whoever's got the room next door but it’s entirely too enrapturing to twist his grip and watch the man’s mouth fall open, hands clutching in his hair.</p><p>He climbs off the bed when Oscar’s cries turn to pleading, walking awkwardly over to his pack and bending to fetch out a bottle of oil that he’s been hanging onto for too long without reason. When he turns back, Oscar’s eyes are hungry on him, hand moving in teasing, feather-light touches.</p><p>He doesn’t waste time when readying Oscar. He thinks the man might murder him for it. He works one finger inside in quick, circling motions, then a second when Wilde relaxes around him. The man’s eyes are fixed on him, desperate and adoring and it makes him feel hot all over, staring at the way Oscar’s face twists as he crooks his fingers just <em>so</em>.</p><p>Zolf knows he should take more care but the burning need that’s filled him isn’t satisfied with <em>slow</em>, it wants <em>fast </em>it wants <em>now</em> it wants <em>Oscar</em>.</p><p>He groans, long and low as he presses himself to the twitching, greedy heat of Oscar’s body, drinking in the slow spread and acceptance that makes the man <em>howl</em>, back arching off the bed. They move together, slow at first but increasingly erratic, Zolf leaning over Oscar’s body and pressing kisses wherever he can.</p><p>Oscar’s made for this. His body laid out and pliant, <em>taking and taking and</em> Zolf feels like he’s going half out of his mind, moving with an urgency that he can’t even remember feeling before. They need this. They need this and he’s going to make sure they can do this again, nothing’s going to get between them <em>ever again.</em></p><p>The bed groans with the force of his thrusts, knocking back against the wall and still not drowning out the way Oscar gasps, moans, calls to the gods and to Zolf himself. Zolf kisses across the man’s chest, sucks at Oscar’s nipples and rolls them between his teeth when it earns him gasps and hands in his hair, nails scratching over his scalp.</p><p>Wilde comes with a protracted groan, leaning up to moan blissful nonsense into Zolf’s mouth. Oscar slides a hand down Zolf’s back and over his arse once more, following the rhythm of his hips and slipping a teasing finger down between Zolf’s cheeks.</p><p>It’s welcome but not necessary, the clutching pull of Oscar’s body and the sheer satisfaction of this moment, of having it, of <em>having Oscar and knowing that it’s not the end, it’s just the start</em>…</p><p>Zolf cries out into Oscar’s kiss, hands gripping the covers tight, arms trembling with the force of holding himself up. He smiles when Oscar loops arms around him and guides him down, curling them onto their sides, his head resting over the thudding beat of Oscar’s heart.</p><p>Zolf pretends there aren’t tears in his eyes. Pretends that he doesn’t feel the man trembling, face pressing to the top of his head.</p><p>Oscar prestidigitates them and that’s what finally breaks him, sobbing a maelstrom of emotions into Zolf’s chest once Zolf rearranges them and tugs the covers up over their bodies. He loses track of time holding Oscar, whispering love and reassurance, his hand stroking up and down the man’s back.</p><p>It’s not alright, not right now. There’s nothing that can be done to make up for the fact that eighteen months of pain led to his death, even if they’re now on the other side of his deserved resurrection.</p><p>But from here they can press on. And that? That means <em>everything</em>.</p>
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